


like you mean it (like it's splitting you in two)

by theinvisibledisaster



Series: It's a Love Story After All [5]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Canon Speculation, F/M, I have zero regrets, Literal Sleeping Together, Love Confessions, POV Clarke Griffin, Post Season 6 Spec Fic, Sharing a Bed, Sleepy Cuddles, Soft Bellamy Blake, Sort Of, This is a g-rated fic, i genuinely just think they deserve a year's worth of sleeping in bed together, it's mostly just them being all soft and tired, let them R E S T, there's basically no plot, they've been through a lot, tired Bellamy, tired clarke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-07-20 09:20:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19989757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theinvisibledisaster/pseuds/theinvisibledisaster
Summary: Clarke is tired. Bellamy is tired.They decide they're tired of being tired alone.It's time to get some rest.





	like you mean it (like it's splitting you in two)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [abldav](https://archiveofourown.org/users/abldav/gifts).



> set post-canon, although i'm not gonna pretend i have ANY idea what the final two episodes are gonna hold. So this is set sometime in the future, when they're trying to build a peaceful life, and all the hours of missed sleep and stress catch up to them. let's presume becho is long since over, okay, because assuming anything else is bad for my health. 
> 
> It's mostly just bellarke being soft, sorry not sorry. 
> 
> Credit to [@fen-ha-fuck-you](https://fen-ha-fuck-you.tumblr.com/) for pointing out everything they've been through over the last month of their lives and saying, "god, let him just cuddle with clarke alone in a room for like, a week, at least" which is what gave me this idea. 
> 
> For you, my love - they're just gonna cuddle.
> 
> Best consumed while listening to "Intertwined" by Dodie, because it's s o f t and s w e e t and it's what they deserve.

_In your ruined shirt, on the last day, while the bruise won’t heal,_  
_and the stain stays put, the red light streaming in from everywhere_  
_at once. Your broken ribs, the back of your head, your hand to_  
_mouth or hand to now, right now, like you mean it, like it’s splitting you_  
_in two._ Now look at the lights, the lights.  
**You Are Jeff - Richard Siken**

_Skin_  
_Heat_  
_Hair in your mouth_  
_Feet touching feet_

_Oh you_  
_And I_  
_Safe from the world_  
_Though the world will try_

_Oh, I'm afraid of the things in my brain_  
_But we can stay here_  
_And laugh away the fear  
_ **Intertwined - Dodie**

* * *

Clarke jerked awake.

Another nightmare.

The room was awash with noise, people discussing things in groups at either end of the large table in the centre of the room, and she was leaning over the smaller desk in the corner, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

She tried not to make any noise, but Bellamy noticed. To be fair, she’d fallen asleep in one of the dining rooms while they were planning, just intending to rest her head on the desk for five minutes between arguments with Raven, and then she’d slipped into unconsciousness.

He stepped away from Emori and Echo. “You okay?”

“How long was I asleep?”

“Bout an hour,” he said, narrowing his eyes when he realised she hadn’t answered his question. “You okay?”

She shrugged. “Fine.”

He was still staring at her warily, and she was about to ask what was wrong when he clapped his hands together and turned to face everyone else. “Okay, I think that’s enough planning for one day. We’ll pick this up again tomorrow.”

Raven made a face. “But-”

“-nope. You can stay here all night long slaving over pieces of paper and bureaucracy, but the suns are down, so I’m going to sleep.” He said sternly.

Some people started arguing and something from her nightmare started coming to the surface again, and she tried to shake the feeling of dread creeping up her spine.

“Clarke?”

She startled. She’d been zoning out again and hadn’t noticed him reach his hand out to help her up. She grabbed it, wobbling when she got to her feet and dizziness overtook her. He steadied her, wrapping his fingers around her elbow, and tilted down a little to catch her eye.

“Clarke?”

“I’m fine.” She mumbled, but he looked the opposite of convinced. He led her out of the room and down one of the corridors, and she was alert enough to notice he still hadn’t let go of her hand. She was just drowsy enough, however, to not realise where they were headed until they arrived. “Bellamy this is your room.”

“Yes.” He said, matter-of-fact, already shrugging off his cardigan.

“I…” She wasn’t sure exactly what to say to that.

He toed off his shoes and padded back towards her, socks not making any noise on the hard floor. He was holding a small navy blue bundle in his hand, and she glanced at it questioningly. “Pyjamas. I figured you’d want something to sleep in. It’s just one of my old shirts, but it’s better than leather pants in bed.”

“I’m… what are you talking about?” She asked, brain still muddled from exhaustion and lingering anxiety from her nightmare.

“Beds, Princess, you have heard of them?” He teased, and she scrunched up her face, trying to make her mind cooperate.

She took the shirt from him, unfolding it and twisting it in her hands as she swayed slightly, thinking. “You want me to sleep… in _here?_ In _your_ bed.”

He regarded her carefully before he nodded. “It’s the only way I can be sure you won’t avoid it.”

“I’m not-”

“-Clarke you fell asleep during _planning._ There must have been thirty people in that room, and all of them were talking over each other. When was the last time you got a good night’s sleep?”

She hesitated. Since long before Josephine. Since before he came back down again. Actually, now that she thought about it, had she slept that well during her six years with Madi, or was she constantly waking up from nightmares or checking for danger or hunting at night because the summers were too hot during the day? When _was_ the last time she got a good night’s sleep?

“Does Cryo count?”

He shot her a disapproving look. “I’m serious, Clarke.”

“So am I.” She said softly.

He sighed. “No, it doesn’t count.”

“Then… I… I don’t know.” She felt tears pressing against the back of her eyes, and she ducked her head. “I don’t know, Bellamy.”

It wasn’t long before she felt two strong arms wrap around her, and she pressed her forehead into Bellamy’s chest, breathing him in, using his warmth to ground herself. She sniffled, trying and failing to hold herself together.

“The last time I… before Josephine, the last time I remember closing my eyes was when Russell was putting her in my head. I was paralysed but I remember everything, all of it. And every time I close my eyes to sleep, I’m right back there again.” Her breath hitched. _“Paralysed._ _**Alone**.”_

He made a noise in the back of his throat and nosed against her hair. “I know. I know, Clarke. It’s okay, I’m here. You’re safe.”

She wasn’t sure when her fingers had ended up scrunched into the shirt at his back, or when he’d changed into a comfier shirt, but she didn’t care, because she was gripping him close, and he was holding her closer, and they were both still here, still alive, still together.

“You’re okay, you’re safe, I’m here.” He murmured, over and over until it sounded like music to her ears, a melody she never wanted to stop playing.

After what could have been hours, she lifted her head, pressing her chin against his chest so she could focus on him. “Okay.”

He knew instinctively what she meant, that she was agreeing to climb into bed with him and actually attempt to sleep, despite her fears, and he ran a thumb under her right eye, dislodging the tears caught there and wiping them away. He maneuvered her over to the edge of the bed and she sat down. Her limbs felt heavy and the world was thick and slow around her, everything except for Bellamy. When he realised she wasn’t making any move to get ready for bed, his hands drifted to the hem of her shirt and hovered there.

He swallowed, hard. “Is this alright?”

She nodded, humming agreement, and with some effort, lifted her arms so he could pull her shirt over her head. He turned away to fold the shirt and place it to the side, and she realised she should probably make a move, but she was too tired. When he returned, he crouched down, fingers dancing along the edge of her trousers. He was looking up at her, eyes earnest and worried, and she threaded one of her hands into his hair, pushing it from his face so she could see them better.

When he pulled her pants down, his gaze didn’t linger anywhere it shouldn’t, and in fact spent most of the time lifting up to meet hers, checking in. Soon, she was sitting there, on the edge of Bellamy’s bed in her underwear, and she pulled on the pyjama shirt he’d given her.

He was still crouching in front of her, large hands splayed over her thighs, above her knees, keeping her grounded. “You okay?”

She smiled. “Yeah. You?”

He smiled back, but there was tension in it. “Yeah.”

She frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, just…” He dropped his forehead to rest against her knee. “You’re still here.”

“I’m still here.” She whispered, just as in awe of that fact as he was. “Thanks to you.”

When he sniffled against her leg, she reached for his hands and tugged them, and then he was pulling the bedcovers aside and watching her crawl under them, snuggling into the mattress like she hadn’t slept in years. She sank into the comfort of the pillow, slowly relaxing into the idea of sleeping through the night. She heard the light switch flick off and felt the covers shift.

The mattress dipped beside her and her eyes fluttered open again, coming face to face with Bellamy, who was watching her anxiously. She knew immediately what he was thinking, and shuffled closer until her legs were entangled with his and their foreheads were pressed together.

“I’m still here.” She murmured.

“You’re still here.” He repeated, using the words like an anchor to remind himself that she was alive, that she wasn’t going anywhere. “You’re okay.”

“We’re both here.” She said, a little more strength in her voice. “We’re both okay. We’re going to be okay, Bellamy.”

“I lost you, Clarke.” His hand slid up her spine, keeping her as close as possible. “I lost you again, and I can’t… I can’t live in a world without you in it, Clarke. I tried once, and it nearly broke me, I can’t do it again.”

“You won’t have to.”

“You don’t know that.” He said, begged, like he was pleading with her for there to be a way she _could_ know that.

“No, I don’t. We don’t know anything anymore. But if anyone can keep me safe, Bellamy, it’s you. And I’m not leaving you. I’m never leaving you again, because I love you and I’m tired of trying not to. We’re doing it right this time, okay?”

“Together?”

“Together, Bellamy, I promise.” She nuzzled against his jaw until her head was tucked into the crook of his neck. “I’m right here.”

He sighed, and it was like all the tension left him at once, every worry and panicked thought spinning around his brain finally quietened, and he relaxed into her touch.

* * *

She wasn’t sure when she fell asleep, all she knew was that when she woke up, it wasn’t because of nightmares, and there was sunlight streaming into her eyes.

“Mmph,” she complained, burrowing further into Bellamy’s shirt.

Someone laughed above her. “Morning Clarke.”

“Morning Jordan, go away.” She mumbled.

He laughed again, and so did Bellamy, chest rumbling beneath her. “Told you, Jordan, we’re not coming to breakfast.”

“Okay. Will we see you at lunch?”

“Nope.”

“Uh. Well… you’re gonna need to eat something at some point.” He pointed out helpfully.

Bellamy shrugged, the movement jostling Clarke, which only made her snuggle further up, nosing underneath his jaw. His hand on her hip squeezed reflexively, and she felt his pulse jump. Bellamy lifted one of his arms to gesture somewhere. “There’s some in the fridge.”

“Right.” Jordan said, bemused. “So you’re just… not leaving this room today?”

“No we’re not.”

“What do you want me to tell the others?”

His arm returned to the bed, fingers playing with Clarke’s hair. “That we’re taking a day off.”

Her eyes were closed, but she could practically _feel_ Jordan’s grin. “Good! You deserve it, oh good, I’ll go tell everyone to leave you alone and not to disturb you unless it’s an emergency.”

His footsteps faded towards the door, until-

“Jordan!” Clarke lifted her head.

“Yeah?”

“It _better_ be an emergency.”

He beamed back at her, mock-saluting as he left the room and closed the door behind him, and then there was the familiar, comforting sound of a lock snicking closed. She exhaled slowly, attempting to roll off Bellamy so she could stretch her legs, but he rolled with her, wrapping her up in his arms and pressing his lips to her collarbone. Not quite kissing her, just resting them there, just reminding himself that he could.

“I’m still here.” She said again. She would say it as many times as he needed to hear it, even if it meant she was saying it for the rest of her life.

“You’re okay.” He breathed, and she nodded, fingers carding through his hair. He ran his nose along her shoulder, lips trailing along her clavicle as he did, and it felt like a deliberate motion that time, so she tugged on his curls until he pushed up on his elbows to look down at her.

“Are you?” She asked, finger tracing lightly over his ear.

“Yeah.” He admitted. “Right here, I’m okay.”

She couldn’t help but smile at that. “Jordan is right, we should eat at some point.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Neither am I.”

“In that case, go back to sleep. Next time we wake up, we’ll eat something, how about that?” He suggested.

He extricated herself from his arms and started to climb out of bed, but she sat up and curled herself around his back, arms coming up under his armpits and crossing over his stomach. He laughed, surprised, and she bit his shoulder lightly. “Where do you think you’re going?”

He hummed, leaning back into her and turning his head so he could rub his nose against her cheek. “I’m just closing the curtains, Princess. Jordan opened them when he decided to be our alarm clock this morning.”

She clutched him a little tighter and he seemed to realise he wasn’t the only one having issues with worrying that the other would leave. His fingers found hers over his sternum.

“Clarke. I promise, that’s all I’m doing. I’m still here. I’m not going anywhere.”

She nodded but it still took her another minute before she relinquished her grip on him, and he stumbled blearily over to the windows. They were open, which she only realised when she heard someone shout up from below, “Looking good, Blake!”

“Shut up, Murphy!” He called back, closing the window and drawing the curtains.

The room darkened, but not by too much; she could still see him as he moved back towards the bed and collapsed onto the mattress. He immediately sought her out, folding into her arms just as readily as she relaxed into his; resting his head on her chest.

She was almost asleep when he asked. “Do you want to move?”

She blinked her eyes open, frowning down at him. “What do you mean?”

“I… would you rather roll over, or…?”

“What are you worried about?”

“I don’t want to make you feel crushed or claustrophobic or anything,” he said, eyes big and full of concern.

She harrumphed and made a show of dragging him closer, pulling more of his body weight over hers. He chuckled, giving in, and she stroked her hand up and down the arm he’d draped across her. Her eyes drifted closed again, sleep coming even easier the second time. “You can spoon me after lunch.”

She could feel his smile against her skin. “I’m gonna hold you to that.”

“You better.” She breathed, right as sleep claimed her completely.

Not a single nightmare to be found. 

Not only did they not leave Bellamy’s room for the rest of the day, but reports from around their door seemed to be that Jordan Green was snapping aggressively at anyone who dared approach it.

In fact, most people left them alone for the rest of the week.

There was a lot of speculation about what went on during all that time behind locked doors and drawn curtains, ranging from torrid sex to grumpy arguments to serious planning, but not one of them actually touched on how much time they simply spent _sleeping._

Tucked up under the covers in each other’s arms, safe, warm, content.

For the first time in a long time, they were allowed to _rest._

**Author's Note:**

> your kudos and comments make me happier than clarke in the arms of the man she loves and bellamy waking up to a face full of blonde hair


End file.
